


More Vivid Than Sunsets, Brighter Than Stars

by wordslinging



Category: Sense8 (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Time, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Series Spoilers, Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-11
Updated: 2015-06-11
Packaged: 2018-04-03 23:33:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4118743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordslinging/pseuds/wordslinging
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I won't go away just because you pretend I'm not here," Kala says after a moment when he doesn't turn around. "Trust me, I know."</p>
            </blockquote>





	More Vivid Than Sunsets, Brighter Than Stars

**Author's Note:**

> This is...pretty much just porn where I take advantage of sensate bonds to be able to just throw them together without an overabundance or plot or context and skip straight to what's important, by which I mean Wolfgang going down on Kala.

Wolfgang ends up in London for a while, living off the money from the diamonds and spending his days wandering the streets aimlessly. He has nowhere particular to be except not Berlin, and nothing to do but keep himself sharp in case one of the cluster needs him. It's still extremely strange having seven people scattered across the world who he feels responsible for, but it gives him a focus and direction that he'd just be drifting without.

Of course, one of those people is Kala.

He tries not to think of her, but that just means he ends up thinking of her even more, and their connection is so strong it needs very little encouragement to bring them together.

He notices the scents first, standing by the window in his hotel room with the smells from the restaurant wafting up to Kala's bedroom--curry and garlic and roasted meat that he knows would taste a hundred times better than the cheap kebab he ate for dinner. Cool London air on his face, Mumbai's humid warmth at his back. 

"I won't go away just because you pretend I'm not here," Kala says after a moment when he doesn't turn around. "Trust me, I know."

Wolfgang sighs and turns to face her, smiling in spite of himself. She's sitting on the end of the bed (his bed, her bed), dressed in pajamas and brushing her hair, every bit as beautiful as the first time he saw her as a glittering bride-to-be.

She looks around dubiously, eyebrows raised. "Money from stolen diamonds doesn't get you a better room than this?"

Wolfgang leans back against the windowsill, folding his arms. "I don't know how long I'll have to make it last. Though I might have sprung for someplace nicer if I'd known you were going to visit."

He stays where he is until she pats the space next to her. He can't resist that invitation, much as he tells himself he should. Instead of joining her on the bed, though, he lowers himself to the floor and leans his head against her knee. Kala's hand settles on the back of his neck and something in him untwists just a little. He rubs his face against her leg; her skin is like silk against his stubble-rough cheek, and there's a sweet floral scent to it, soap or maybe some kind of lotion. 

She strokes his hair. "Are you all right?" she asks, and they both know he's not.

"Don't worry about me," Wolfgang replies, which they both know isn't an answer. "How are you?"

Kala runs her fingers lightly over his scalp. Her voice is very soft. "I told Rajan I can't marry him."

Wolfgang looks up at her. "Not because of me."

"Not just because of you," she says, an edge of sadness to her smile. "You made me realize I can't keep pretending I love him and hoping it becomes true. Rajan deserves better than that."

He looks down. "And you deserve better than me."

Kala touches his face gently, tipping it back up. "Shouldn't I be the judge of that?"

"Kala…" He breathes her name out on a sigh, pressing his face into her hand.

"Do you think I haven't wished I could take these feelings I have for you and feel them for Rajan instead?" she asks. "Someone who seems like the perfect husband for me, instead of someone--" 

She cuts herself off, but not fast enough to stop the words from echoing through their connection. _Someone who's done the things you have._

Kala closes her eyes, her palm still gentle against his cheek. "Do you think I haven't tried not to feel this way?"

Wolfgang looks down, closing his own eyes. "Try harder." It's not fair to her and he knows it, but there's never been an overabundance of fairness in his life. 

She shifts on the bed, drawing her legs up and leaning forward to take his face in both hands now. When Wolfgang opens his eyes, her face is very close to his, her expression a mix of compassion and stubbornness. 

"You're not the monster you think you are, Wolfgang," she tells him. "You can't be."

He tries to look away, eyes darting around the room but inevitably drawn back to hers. "How can you be so sure?"

There are tears welling up in her eyes now, even as her voice stays firm. "Because I don't believe I could feel this way about you if you were."

A few tears spill down her cheeks, and he's up on his knees and reaching for her before he can tell himself not to. He cups her face in his hands, thumbs wiping at the tears.

"Don't," he says softly. "Kala, don't--" and then her mouth is on his, the kiss fierce and ungentle and tasting like Kala's tears. 

One of her hands stays on his face and the other fists in the collar of his shirt, tugging him up. His legs tangle with hers as he hits the mattress and his hands settle on her waist as if they've done this a million times. Her breath is warm on his face and her breasts press against him through the thin fabric of her top, and all Wolfgang's resolve that he shouldn't let this happen is nothing in the face of one simple truth: if she wants him, he's hers.

Kala kisses him again, her mouth open and wet against his. One of her hands trails down his chest and around to the small of his back, fingers brushing bare skin where his shirt rides up. Wolfgang lets go of her to yank his shirt over his head, tossing it aside carelessly. Her hands and eyes move over his skin and Wolfgang pays attention to what he's getting through the connection; eagerness, curiosity, a flutter of nerves but no hesitation and that current of desire echoed by his own, strong enough to drown them both.

He slides a hand under the hem of her pajama top, over the tensed muscles of her stomach and then up to cup one of her breasts. The noise Kala makes is quickly stifled and he looks up to see her biting her lip, remembers that she's at home with her family rooms away. He reaches up with his free hand and teases her lip out from between her teeth, and she kisses his thumb and smiles at him.

"Keep going," she tells him.

Wolfgang kisses her--it's nice to feel a smile on her face when they kiss--and pushes her top up. She lifts her arms to let him take it off and then puts them around his neck, pulling him close. He runs his hands over her skin, unable to get enough of the way it feels, pressing kisses to her hair and the side of her face when she hides her next moan in the curve of his neck.

Kala turns her head to catch his mouth with hers and they just kiss for a few moments, hungry and searching. Then Wolfgang lets his hand trail down to her stomach, pausing just above the hem of her panties--the same ones she was wearing that time he woke up to find her standing in front of him, revealing just enough to be tantalizing.

***

This is...fairly new territory for Kala.

She's not some cliche of a blushing maiden; she knows the things that a girl with an Internet connection and a healthy sense of curiosity can find out. But this part, the part where she's in bed with a man (or, well, two beds at once, which hasn't gotten any less confusing yet) wasn't supposed to happen until her wedding night. 

She thought it wasn't supposed to happen, anyway. She also thought she couldn't visit other countries without leaving Mumbai or experience another person's memories.

Or watch a man murder someone in front of her and still feel that he's part of her, part of the very essence of her being, and know that she is part of him as well.

The rules as she's always understood them don't apply anymore, and that makes it easy to silence the voice that tells her she shouldn't be doing this, easy to focus on here and now instead of the past, and easy to give the slight nod and noise of assent Wolfgang needs to slide his hand into her panties.

Kala gasps at the first touch of his hand, strong, callused fingers so different from her own. He doesn't slide them into her right away like she thought he might, just rubs gently for a moment, which makes her bite her lip again and push up against his hand.

He kisses a path down the side of her neck and slowly pushes two fingers inside her, his thumb still rubbing in maddening little circles. Kala can't hold back a moan, pressing a hand over her mouth to stifle it.

"You like that?" Wolfgang's smile is wicked and his eyes are hot, the sort of look that would once have made her restate her position that he's a demon.

"You don't need to sound so pleased with yourself," she tells him in an airy tone that would probably be more convincing if her voice didn't shake as he twists his fingers. "So far you haven't done anything I can't do for myself."

Wolfgang's eyebrows go up and his grin only gets bigger. "Oh, really? Is that how we're going to do this?"

"Oh," Kala says when he sits back on his heels and tugs her panties down in one fluid motion, and then " _Oh_ ," when he pushes her knees apart and settles between them.

"You'll like this," he promises, keeping his eyes on her as he bends down, and she knows he's right even before the first swipe of his tongue.

This, now, is entirely new, and everything about it--the gentle probing of his tongue, the shifting muscles in his back as he kneels between her legs, the way his eyelashes flutter against his cheeks as he closes his eyes, looking every bit as ecstatic as she feels--is making Kala lose her mind. It's not a struggle to keep from moaning aloud now, because all she can do is gasp for breath, grabbing a fistful of sheets with one hand and reaching to cup the back of his head with the other.

Wolfgang slides two fingers back inside her, spreading them apart and licking between them. Kala whines and arches off the bed, desperate for more of his mouth.

He finds her clit and presses his tongue flat against it, then sucks gently, at the same time thrusting harder with his fingers. Kala feels her whole body tense, down to her toes. Her climax pulses through her before she's ready, leaving her shaking all over and muffling a cry with her hand.

She hears a low, startled echo of that cry from Wolfgang, and in an instant he's sliding up the bed to kiss her, hands braced on either side of her head and mouth still wet.

"That was--God, Kala--" he pants against her mouth, and kisses her again, hard, before pulling back to explain. "When you came, I could feel it. As if it was me. It was incredible."

Kala smiles, reaching up to twine her arms around his neck. "I suppose I don't need to tell you how good it felt firsthand, then."

Words flit through her mind, from elsewhere in the cluster, she thinks-- _Love inside a cluster is the worst kind of narcissism_. The self-satisfied look on Wolfgang's face suggests that whoever said that may be right, but it also just makes her want to kiss him even more.

He's still wearing his jeans, and she reaches down to hook a finger through one belt loop and tug. "Were you planning on taking these off anytime?"

Wolfgang furrows his brow, rolling to the side and leaning on his elbow. "I can, if you think that's really a good idea."

Kala frowns. "Why would it not be a good idea?" Surely he's not going to go back to telling her they shouldn't be together after doing _those things_ to her with his tongue.

"Well," he says gravely, "I wouldn't want the sight of my cock to make you faint again."

She opens her mouth to protest how different that was, but a sly smile is already breaking through his serious look, so instead she tackles him back onto the mattress.

"You are _terrible_ ," she declares, playfully shoving at his chest, and he catches her by the wrist and pulls her down on top of him, laughing. He's heartbreakingly handsome when he laughs like that.

Wolfgang kisses her apologetically and she sighs into his mouth, relaxing against him, then reaches down to undo his fly. He arches his hips off the bed to kick his jeans down his legs, and she's not surprised to see not even a stitch of underwear. He settles back on the bed with an air of lazy contentment and Kala takes a long, proper look at his body this time, feeling her face grow warm but refusing to let herself get skittish now.

She raises a hand. "Can I--?"

Wolfgang's eyes darken with lust and he doesn't have to voice the low " _Please_ ," for her to know how badly he wants her hand on him.

Putting her hand on him is a strange mix of utterly new and intimately familiar. She's never done this, she didn't know how soft the skin here would be even while his cock is hard and hot as a brand, didn't know how it would twitch under her hand like it has a life of its own. But without trying or reaching for the knowledge at all she knows what he likes, how fast to stroke and the best angle and how if she traces a fingernail lightly along the shaft it's going to drive him out of his mind.

He comes with a shout, head thrown back, and he was right--Kala feels it, subtly different from her own orgasm but still intense enough to send a shiver through her.

She glances at the mess on her hand and his stomach and intellectual curiosity takes over for a moment--if she wipes her hand on her sheets, will there be anything there when the connection breaks? Will there be a stain that no one but her can see and feel? Wolfgang settles the issue simply enough by leaning over the side of the bed and coming back up with his t-shirt, offering it to her to wipe her hand on before mopping lazily at his stomach. 

Kala flops back against the pillows, letting out a sigh. "Well. That was...something."

Wolfgang smiles at her and holds out an arm, and she settles against him, head on his shoulder. "If you were here, I'd buy you breakfast and walk you home in the morning," he says, and cranes his neck to look at her. "So you don't start thinking I'm some kind of cad who doesn't know how to treat a girl."

Kala smiles. "If you were here, you wouldn't have to buy me anything. We could just go downstairs and raid the restaurant fridge for leftovers."

Wolfgang goes quiet for a moment, stroking her hair. "And what would you tell your family if a strange German man showed up at their home someday?"

It's a serious question--how would she even begin to explain him to her family?--but she doesn't have any serious answer, so she just says, "I'd tell my auntie and sister that I saw you first and they shouldn't get any ideas."

Wolfgang chuckles and kisses the top of her head.

Kala nestles against his shoulder, closing her eyes and breathing in the scent of his skin. She knows he'll be gone when she wakes up, but she also knows it won't be long before they see each other again.


End file.
